His Master's Voice
by Zokolov
Summary: A mysterious research facility near the Sevii Islands is invaded by Team Rocket, and a lone Sandshrew makes its way through the place with only one goal: escape. But not only do other surviving Pokémon complicate its task, it soon finds out that the Rockets are the least of its problems.
1. The Taming of the Shrew

**HIS MASTER'S VOICE**

**Chapter One: ****_The Taming of the Shrew_**

Mr. Fuji's volunteer house in Lavender Town was on full alert. One of the new volunteers who wished to care for abandoned Pokémon had stumbled upon a barely conscious Sandshrew on her way to start her first day of work. This particular Sandshrew had spent days without food and was badly bruised, with entire chunks of its dry, tough hide gone, exposing its vulnerable skin. Spotting the volunteer bursting in with a wounded Pokémon, Mr. Fuji acted immediately, putting the poor Pokémon on the couch, stabilizing its condition with a potion and wrapping it up with a blanket. The other volunteers in the house, still rather young and inexperienced with Pokémon, were wringing their hands and frantically pacing around, babbling about calling a nurse from the Pokémon Center.

"Why didn't you bring it straight to the Pokémon Center?" Mr. Fuji asked calmly, silencing the others.

The volunteer, a young woman around twenty with shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes, gulped nervously. Mr. Fuji didn't sound angry, but there was a certain quality to this old, frail man who made the volunteer feel shame.

"I, uh," she stuttered, "well the Pokémon Center was still a couple of blocks away… plus I thought you had supplies and volunteers… see, I'm not a nurse or a doctor or anything, but I am well versed in Pokémon biology, so I thought if I…"

"You found," Mr. Fuji glanced at the Sandshrew, "_him_, so you wanted to cure him yourself. I just hope you haven't placed your scientific curiosity above this Pokémon's well-being, Ms…"

"Oh, uh, Greene," the volunteer babbled, surprised that Fuji was able to tell the Sandshrew's gender when even Leaf had difficulties with it. "Leaf Greene. I work… _worked_ at the Pewter Museum, and… well, now I decided to come here. If that's okay with you…?"

"Do what you can to him," Mr. Fuji said simply, then addressed the other volunteers. "Give our newest volunteer some space, please, but assist her if it's required."

Leaf sighed in relief and leaned over the Sandshrew while grabbing a first aid kit from her shoulder bag. The potion Mr. Fuji had administered had dulled the Sandshrew's pain, and it was starting to relax, but it still writhed around and occasionally let out a squeak. Only one of its eyes was open, and it didn't seem to have any idea about its surroundings.

Finally, when Leaf started treating the Sandshrew's injuries, the Pokémon finally fell asleep. But even then, it couldn't escape what happened…

**~o~O~o~**

**_Vermilion City, Kanto (three days earlier)_**

It was already dark out, but the Vermilion Harbor was as busy as ever, with cargo ships passing in and out and dockworkers yelling at each other. A tall, red-haired man wearing a black cape stood on a pier at the harbor. Though the dockworkers gave him quizzical looks, they were quick to move on when the eleven-foot Dragonite next to the man glared at them right back.

The man was Lance, champion of the Indigo League for two years now. He was once the leader the Indigo League's Elite Four, but when the last champion, Red, stepped down and later disappeared without a trace, Lance had been promoted in his place. Not only a powerful Pokémon trainer who descended from the respected Blackthorn Dragon Clan, Lance was once also a member of the International Police, and was now in charge of maintaining order in the Kanto and Johto regions – at any cost. Lance ignored people's whispering and staring around him as he checked the time from is pocket watch. The man he was waiting for hadn't arrived.

Finally, a dockworker approached him, though he did it as slowly as possible, shooting worried glances in the Dragonite's direction.

"Mr. Lance," he started uncertainly, "there's, uh… a package for you."

Lance frowned, but didn't say anything as four more dockworkers arrived, carrying around a large wooden crate large enough to fit two fully-grown men inside it. As they lowered the crate next to Lance, the first dockworker gave a paper and a pen to the champion.

"It was sent from Gateon Port, Orre," the dockworker explained. "Came on a cargo ship a half hour ago. If would just sign here… and here… here… here… here and there. Thanks!"

Not wanting to stay near the intimidating Dragonite any longer, the five dockworkers quickly left, leaving Lance to wonder about the crate he had apparently ordered. But before he could order his Dragonite to smash it open, something from within the crate kicked the lid out. Though Lance's expression remained blank, he had to take an involuntary step backwards as a man climbed out of the crate, visibly shaken.

"Whoa," he exhaled as he landed on the pier, staggering like a drunkard – looking and smelling like one too. He hadn't shaved in days, apparently. After getting his balance together, the man dusted himself off and adjusted his brown trench coat. He was dressed almost exactly like a cowboy, though he didn't have a hat, and in place of a revolver, there were six Poké Balls. Though shorter and younger than Lance, the man was in good shape. He had messy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, plus a fair amount of scars.

"Oh, hey, guy," he introduced himself, as if he had just spotted Lance. "You seen the champion 'round here somewhere? I was s'posed to meet him. You know the guy, right? Smug, superior, emotionless… kinda looks like you!"

Lance scowled and opened his mouth in protest, but the man cut him off by laughter.

"I'm just screwing with ya, I know it's you," he laughed and slapped Lance's back. "You think I've never read a newspaper before? I've read at least two!"

Lance sighed. "_You're_ the, er… freelancer I hired? Wesley Marston?"

"Please, uh, Wes is fine," the cowboy said and enthusiastically shook hands with Lance. "Folks don't call me Wesley. Ever."

Lance looked around him and led Wes further away from curious ears. He nodded at his Dragonite, who saluted its owner and instantly jumped up in the air, flying a few feet above Wes and Lance and keeping an eye out for eavesdroppers.

The moment they were out of earshot, Lance started talking to Wes as quickly as he could: "Normally, I wouldn't be seeking help from people like you, but we're in the middle of a crisis here. I understood you've been 'handling' situations related to Cipher and Team Snagem back in Orre?"

Wes smiled proudly. "Yes, sir, I have," he said and gave Lance a mock salute. "If there's a better Pokémon bounty hunter in the world, they're dead."

"Yes, yes, I have no idea what a 'Pokémon bounty hunter' does, but these are desperate times," Lance said hurriedly and looked around him again before continuing. "A research facility near the Sevii Islands was taken over about twelve hours ago. All communications have been cut, but the administrator managed to send a brief emergency message directly to the Elite Four before that. According to the message, they have almost fifty hostages there."

Wes folded his arms and tried to look more professional as he responded. "What are their demands?" he asked. "And what kind of lab is it?"

"No demands have been made," Lance said, "and it's an R&D lab for Pokémon medicine. It's pretty valuable, so maybe they're after their products instead."

Wes stared at Lance for a while, but Lance stared right back, without blinking or changing his expression at all. Even then, Wes wasn't satisfied. "How come I haven't heard anything about this? Shouldn't the International Police handle this? There has to be something else here."

"There is," Lance said quietly and turned to look at the ships in the harbor. "According to the message we received… Team Rocket is behind this."

"Team… _The_ Team Rocket?" Wes asked incredulously. "_The _The Team Rocket? _The the _the… wait, I lost my track of thought…"

"The same ones who tried to take over Silph's headquarters two and a half years ago, yes," Lance replied.

"Yeah, I remember that," Wes scoffed. "Everyone was counting on you and the Elite Four to save the day. Instead, some teen and a Pikachu came in and drove 'em off. A week later, the same kid kicks your asses in the Pokémon League. Not one of your proudest moments, I reckon?"

Lance didn't seem bothered at all, so Wes moved on to something else that bothered him. "So why're y'all asking me for? Don't you have other people for these situations? Uh, I mean, not that I mind or anything… y'know. Just wondering. Not like I'm taking this job without more information."

"Since you're not from Kanto, you can't possibly understand the situation we had during Team Rocket's uprising," Lance said evenly, still staring at the ships. "It seemed like Giovanni had his nose in everything. You had to watch out what you said, where you went and even what you thought. Fear led to widespread apathy, and that's exactly what Giovanni was aiming for. When Kanto's largest city was invaded, everyone else thought that the situation wasn't their problem. 'At least they're not here anymore', they thought. Even the citizens of Saffron were quietly resigned to the situation, as everyone was waiting for someone else to act."

Wes yawned. "Should I care about any of this?"

"The point is," Lance said, now visibly frustrated, "if people start hearing rumors about Team Rocket's sudden return, there'll be chaos all over Kanto and the Sevii Islands again. They've kept a low profile for these last two and a half years, and every time we capture one of their former members, it makes us look good and makes the people trust us. That's why we need to handle this discreetly, and that means hiring someone who can get things done… unconventionally."

"Gotcha, I can be discreet," Wes nodded. "Kill them up good, but do it quietly. Kidding!" he added when Lance was about to protest. "I'll do my best to minimize casualties or whatever. I'm assuming I'm not going alone?"

"I sent a unit divided into two teams to deal with the situation as soon as I got the message," Lance said. "We haven't heard anything from the first team, and the second team is standing by on Floe Island. Join up with them and they'll fill you in on the rest. Commander Marshal from the Unova Elite Four is in charge there, so report to him. My Dragonite will take you there immediately."

Lance's Dragonite landed next to Wes immediately upon hearing its name. It grudgingly kneeled down so Wes could climb on its back.

"Whoa, hold it!" Wes said quickly as Lance was about to leave. "Before I do anything, what am I getting for this? A hug? A medal and a pat on the shoulder? All the Poffins I can eat? Well, I might consider that first one if you get that Karen lady from your Elite Four to do it, but even then I need some cash to be properly motivated!"

Lance just nodded at his Dragonite who grabbed a large duffel bag it had hidden under its wing and tossed it to Wes' feet. As Wes opened the bag, his eyes widened at the sight of stacks of money, all piled on top of objects that interested Wes even more than the money."

"Rare ribbons…" Wes muttered as he perused through the bag. "Diamond-crusted Poké Balls… legendary artifacts… gym leader Misty's original shorts, the fanboys will pay a lot for these…"

"All of it, including the money, was confiscated from various Team Rocket hideouts the IP has uncovered after the gang's fall," Lance explained. "They kept the stuff for 'evidence', but I managed to pull some favors and get a hold of most of them. They're yours…"

Dragonite quickly snatched the bag from Wes.

"…once the job is done," Lance said with finality. "The choice is yours."

Wes contemplated for a while. The mission sounded dangerous… though he probably wouldn't do it if it wasn't. With the money he would get by fencing all those goodies, he could easily retire and move to Hoenn… not that he would. How often does one find a job he enjoys so much? Plus all the money could really help his…

Well, they would really help.

"I'll do it," Wes said. "_But_ how do I know you won't double-cross me? You're the law 'round here, if I come back to try to get those items, y'all can have me arrested!"

"And what would stop _y'all_ from talking about this once you're done?" Lance countered. "You keep quiet about all this, you'll get them. You fail to stay true to your word once you get your reward… we have ways of taking it back. With interest."

"Shake on it," Wes said.

Wes and Lance approached each other very carefully, glaring at each other all the way as they shook hands very quickly. Not wanting to waste more time, Wes climbed on the Dragonite's back. Before the massive dragon spread its wings and rocketed into the night sky, Wes still heard Lance yelling something, but he had to focus entirely on getting a firm grip from Dragonite's neck before the airflow knocked him off the Pokémon's back.

_He probably just told me to be careful or something_, Wes thought. _And I always am! I'll try to wreak as little havoc as possible._

_Though that's kinda boring_.

**~o~O~o~**

**_Navel Rock Research Facility, Sevii Islands, twelve hours ago_**

_Fire… _

That was the first thing Sandshrew noticed as he woke up. The second was that he had been knocked out of his cage. As always, the yellow Pokémon found himself in a large, windowless laboratory with Pokémon cages littered all over the place. But the place was usually sterile and quiet, with men in white coats walking around and the Pokémon kept controlled in their cages. The food controlled them somehow, but it hadn't affected Sandshrew nearly as much – he had already resigned to his fate. Some new arrivals resisted loudly at first, but they eventually fell quiet. They always did.

Now there were no humans around and a loud alarm sound blared from the speakers. Sandshrew had only heard it once during a fire drill… but the flames around the lab and the enormous hole in the wall somehow told him that this wasn't one.

Some of the Pokémon weren't quiet anymore either. A few cages close to Sandshrew had opened, and some of the newer arrivals inside were quickly scattering towards the hole in the wall. Others that were still locked up were trashing and wailing in their cages, filling the lab with miscellaneous sounds of terrified, pained Pokémon. The cages in the furthest corner of the room were already ablaze – Sandshrew didn't even want to look there.

Before Sandshrew could move an inch, the alarm sound stopped, replaced by the familiar, terrified voice of a human coming from every speaker in the room:

"_This is Professor Krane! All personnel in the lower levels, evacuate immediately! Team Rocket members have stormed the facility! The guards have been… oh, God… just, quick, hurry and save yourselves!_"

Team Rocket… Sandshrew had heard the name before. In the first place he remembered after hatching – the laboratory on Cinnabar.

"_I was in the administrator's office, managed to send out a warning before they cut me off. I don't know what happened to him… they'll find me soon. If the elevators and trams still work, get out now! Swim if you have to. I've got to-_"

The rest of Krane's speech became static-y and hard to hear over the terrified, ever loudening cries of the Pokémon still trapped in their cages. Those whose cages were broken had run off by now. Sandshrew hesitated a moment – Krane was the only decent human in the whole facility… but if only there was the chance of seeing freedom again… for the first time since hatching.

_Screw him_.

But just as Sandshrew made his way towards the hole in the wall, a weak voice from a nearby cell startled him. It belonged to a Cyndaquil in a cage next to the wall. Sandshrew froze in place when he heard the Cyndaquil's quiet moans. Even through the cries of the Pokémon and the crackles of the fire, Sandshrew could hear it very clearly.

She was asking for help. Just like Sandshrew had done when the Cyndaquil was still staying in the cage next to him. Sandshrew had bitten one of the scientists, and as a punishment, he was kept without food for two days. But even though she had been in the facility longer than him, the Cyndaquil had shared her food with him, keeping him alive. As a punishment, Cyndaquil had been moved further away from Sandshrew, effectively isolating him from the other Pokémon.

Shrew stared at Cyndaquil's cage for a second, then at the hole that led to freedom. Then he groaned loudly.

_Being good sucks_.

* * *

_**A/N: I hope you like this! It's a little different from my usual, as I'm trying to make a sort of mystery/action type story, and have a Pokémon as the main protagonist. Wes is, of course, loosely based on the PC of Pokémon Colosseum, though with major alterations to his backstory and appearance. All I can say from the plot is that it will thicken considerably and many new characters will be introduced. **_

_**The current cover picture is just a placeholder. I think I'm getting a new one made pretty soon. As for updates, I'll try to do it regularly. The next chapter will probably be here in a few days.  
**_

_**Reviews are appreciated, but even if you don't want to, thanks for reading anyway!**_


	2. United We Stand

**Chapter Two: ****_United We Stand_**

**_Floe Island, Sevii Islands_**

Wes walked around the docks of Floe Island, the fourth island in the Sevii archipelago. It was past 9 PM and it was getting increasingly dark outside, so Wes was alone. There were several boats parked around, all of them gently rocking in the waves, but Wes had forgotten to ask Lance which one he was supposed to seek out. There were no attack helicopters there either, which made Wes wonder just what kind of task force had Lance sent there.

Wes gazed into the horizon – the peak of Navel Rock was somewhat visible even from this distance. But there was no smoke pouring out, no police helicopters circling around, no panicked citizens trying to get a good look of the action – all usual stuff during Wes' previous operations. He had lived his entire life in Orre, hired by entrepreneurs and local law enforcement agents to help deal with problems related to Orre's criminal gangs. Wes knew them better than anyone – largely because he joined Team Snagem at the age of 14.

But something changed. As always, it had to do with a girl. Rui, the only person in the world Wes still cared about other than his mother and sister, who worked at the Pokémon HQ Lab.

Wes had to stop reminiscing as someone waved at him from the opposite end of the pier. Thinking he had found his contact, Wes took a few steps forward.

_Probably some obnoxious, military no-neck with… hey_!

Instead, Wes was approached by a tall brunette wearing extremely short shorts that had apparently once been jeans. She had a sort of no-nonsense look to her, making Wes even more eager to see her. He quickly adjusted his hair, sucked his stomach in and tried to remember his best pick-up lines.

"Hi," Wes said cheerily as he got closer to the girl, "I-"

"Yeah, yeah, get in the sub," the girl replied quickly and shoved Wes to move forward. "Hurry it up, someone can come in any minute!"

_Well, darn_.

"The what?" Wes asked. "Uh, hi, I'm Wes, I was sent to-"

"H. T. White," the girl hissed – Wes assumed she was telling her name. "Lieutenant. Now come on!"

"Yes, ma'am," Wes said sarcastically and followed her to an empty spot of water between two boats. "Ooh, what do those initials stand for? You know, so I can comment on the loveliness of your name afterwards?"

"The T is for Touko," the girl responded tersely and talked into her watch. "Yeah, I found him. Bring it up."

"So… the H?" Wes inquired with a smile that he meant to be seductive, but which only seemed to annoy Touko.

"People just call me Touko," she replied.

"I'll guess, then. Let's see, female names starting with H… um… Hilda?"

Touko's cringe was all the answer Wes needed.

"People just call me Touko," she said again, and Wes finally shut his mouth.

But he opened it again in shock as something unexpectedly emerged from the sea: it was a submarine about the size of a van, with about half of it above the surface of the water, allowing the hatch to be opened from the inside. Before Wes could ask any further questions, Touko grabbed him roughly and shoved him towards the sub. Watching his step, Wes climbed on the submarine and carefully made his way inside. Touko followed right behind him and closed the hatch behind her.

Descending down a small ladder, Wes finally saw the interior of the submarine. About a second afterwards, he knew he had to get out. Not only was the place dimly lit and cramped, it smelled like sweat and something utterly incomprehensible. There were three small circular windows on both sides of the sub and a large one at the bow, where the controls were. The passenger "seats" consisted of two narrow wooden benches attached below the windows, one on both side. There was also a chair near the periscope, crammed between the controls and the passenger compartment.

Not only that, but the sub was full of people who stared at him expectantly. Years of working alone at the Orre desert didn't leave Wes with much time to socialize. Talking with one person at a time was easy, but the sub contained eight people plus Wes himself.

Fortunately, he didn't have to hold a speech, as an incredibly large, muscular man with orange hair stumbled towards him, unable to stand properly in the confined space. Wes recognized him immediately: it was Marshal of the Unova Elite Four, only dressed in combat gear instead of his usual attire. Wes extended his arm to shake hands with him, but Marshal merely glared.

"Let me just say that if I was in charge of the operation, I would not have brought a civilian along," Marshal said rudely. "But, Lance said you have an impressive track record, and we'll take all the help we can get, so I'll make an exception. In the team, our first rule is that no one gets left. But as you're not part of the team… screw up, and we'll leave you. Got it?"

"You're not this charming on TV," Wes muttered.

Marshal just nodded and looked over Wes' shoulder at Touko, who nodded at the commander before sitting on one of the benches at the left side of the sub. Marshal sat on the chair by the periscope.

_Port side_, Wes reminded himself. _No, wait…_

"Get us over there, Dock," Marshal ordered the pudgy, middle-aged man at the controls. "We've wasted enough time. You, Wes, you'll just have to stand. There's some handles in the ceiling next to the windows."

Wes awkwardly positioned himself near the starboard window and grabbed the handle as instructed. He was uncomfortably close to another girl: a pretty, blue-eyed brunette just like Touko, although her hair was styled to strange Princess Leia-like double buns. In stark contrast to Touko, the girl smiled at Wes warmly, and he returned the gesture, awkwardly aware that Touko was glaring at him the entire time.

"I guess introductions are in order," Marshal grunted and pointed at the man near the controls. "That there's Dock, chosen on this mission mostly because he's the only person we could find who can use a submarine."

"Yo," Dock said cheerfully. "Though it's actually a sub_mersible, _since we can't operate underwater for more than two hours at best."

Everyone rolled their eyes – apparently he had made this distinction before.

"How many subwhatevers have you, uh, piloted, Dock?" Wes asked.

"Including this?" Dock asked, and Wes nodded. "One. I just started today. But I've done many simulations. Oh, and I loved diving as a kid. And I own a Vaporeon. I think I got it."

Wes smiled and nodded and privately wondered if the bounty Lance was offering was really worth all this.

"You're currently with Team Alpha," Marshal explained. "Beta went in first and we've been sitting on this island for almost eight hours straight. That," Marshal pointed at Touko," is Touko White, the leader of the Alpha team. Next to her is Touya, or as his mom likes to call him, Hilbert, our comm. specialist."

A pale, young man with messy brown hair and brown eyes nodded at Wes, who nodded back curtly. _He seems to sit awfully close to Touko_.

"He and Ms. White are, well, close," Marshal said, smiling for the first time since Wes arrived, as if reading Wes' thoughts, "so you'll often see her yelling at the others while Touya sits back and watches."

The others laughed at their predicament. Touya smiled nervously while Touko buried her face with her cap. Marshal nonetheless continued on professionally.

"Next to Touya is our new medic, Amarillo."

'Amarillo', whose face was obscured by a large straw hat, didn't seem to react to Wes' presence at all. Wes couldn't even tell if the medic was a man or a woman, so he decided to just nod and allow Marshal to move on.

"You're standing next to Rosa, our unit's second-in-command," Marshal continued, and the girl with Leia hair smiled at Wes again. "Next to her is Buck, our explosives specialist." A laid-back, red-haired man waved at Wes. "And finally, our technical expert, Jasmine."

Wes had to lean to the left a bit to get a good look of Jasmine, who was almost entirely covered by Buck. Wes only caught a glimpse of the mousy, brown-haired Jasmine as she nervously smiled at Wes, then blushed and quickly turned away.

Wes had to suppress a sigh. _For once I have to work with a team and it's full of weirdos. These guys can't be older than 20! _

_Well, neither am I_, Wes thought, _but… still._

Dock muttered to himself as he looked at the various monitors and meters on the dashboard and flipped switches. "Hmm… engines, check… life support, check… electronics, check… radar, operational… controls, check… periscope, down… pressure a-ok. Closing all hull openings… done."

Dock looked at the panel next to him – all of the dozens of little lights on it were green. He gave a thumbs-up to Marshal, who nodded and grabbed on to another handle.

"The radio is fine," Marshal said. "Take us out of here."

"Gotcha," Dock replied, focusing intently on the controls. "Opening vent valves… propellers on… here we go!"

Wes noticed that the rest of the passengers looked slightly greenish, apart from 'Amarillo', who appeared to be either sleeping or meditating – though Wes couldn't see the medic's face anyway. He watched in awe as the lights in the submarine dimmed even more as they submerged. Wes expected a nudge of some sort, but instead, the sub started moving smoothly forward, the docks of Floe Island quickly behind them. Dock seemed to know what he was doing, though Wes noticed that the thing he used to control the sub's rudders seemed to be a steering wheel from an old car.

"We should be there in five minutes," Marshal told Wes. "Thanks to the modifications they made on the engine, this baby is the only sub_mersible_ capable of reaching Navel Rock. The currents around these parts are deadly. Hardly any ships sail around here, either."

"What's the plan?" Wes asked Marshal – this was really the only thing he needed to know: what the others were doing. The rest he'd make up on the spot.

"Beta was sent there twelve hours ago," Marshal explained. "Normally, we'd be the ones they send first while Beta lays in reserve, but Lance changed the order at the last minute. I'll fill you in on the details as soon as we get a visual on the facility. Shouldn't take long."

Wes nodded, then looked around the sub, cleared his throat and tried to come up with something witty to say, especially with Rosa and Touko in the vicinity.

"So, we're all a lovely bunch of clichés here," he said cheerfully. "Say, which one of you guys is gonna die first, whaddya think?"

The whole team, including Jasmine, stared at Wes in horror.

"You know, there's always the one," Wes explained. "I'm not a part of you guys and I don't have any loved ones waiting for me, so I should be safe. Anyone carry around a photo of their loved one? Or has anyone gotten hitched recently? So they have a girlfriend or boyfriend they can talk about wistfully just before a Team Rocket grunt's Raticate starts gnawing on their innards?"

Wes glanced hopefully in Touya's direction, but instead heard a heavy sigh from behind him. Rosa looked very anxious all of a sudden.

"Nate, Rosa's boyfriend, was the leader of the Beta team," Marshal clarified. "We're going to assume they have been KIA."

"You guys and your acronyms, just say that they're dead," Wes grumbled and shook his head as the team glared him. "What, it's not my job to keep up the morale!"

"Look, it's okay, guys," Rosa mumbled, though she was staring at her shoes. "We don't know anything yet, they could be-"

But she was interrupted as the sub suddenly started shaking violently. Wes had to grab the handle with both hands while the others almost tumbled on the floor. 'Amarillo' still hadn't noticed anything, apparently. Marshal, who almost bumped his face into the periscope, gave Dock a nasty look, but the shakes stopped almost immediately.

"I don't know what it was!" Dock protested nervously. "But whatever it was, it fried our radar, and the radio's dead. All the other systems seem to working fine, though. I can still get us in, but we have to go through the front door."

"Yay," Wes deadpanned.

"Not necessarily," Marshal mumbled. "Just keep going."

"Probably some kind of jamming device Team Rocket's made," Touya said. "Creates a sort of bubble where no transmissions can get in or out. Or maybe it's part of the lab's equipment, but it's something they chose not to tell us."

"But…" Rosa suddenly sounded hopeful and stared at her teammates with wide eyes. "That explains why we lost contact with the others. They could-"

"I'm not going to sit here and guess," Marshal grunted. "Take us a bi closer to the surface, Dock. Up periscope!"

Dock pressed a button on the dashboard while Marshal grabbed the periscope's handles and raised it manually. He looked through the lenses intently for a few seconds, then signaled Wes to take a look. Wes squeezed past the team members as well as he could and glimpsed into the periscope.

The Naval Rock Research Facility was in sight, the actual facility built in the shadow of a tall mountain. The facility itself was smaller than Wes imagined – just a small, L-shaped, two-story facility. Wes had even seen motels bigger than that. When Wes was done, Marshal quickly pulled the periscope back down.

"I guess it's time to announce our plan," Marshal announced and tried to stand as tall as he could in the middle of the submarine.

Marshal pressed a few buttons on his Pokétch, which suddenly generated a glowing, 3D-image of the research facility in the middle of the sub. All eyes except Dock's were on Marshal – even Amarillo had apparently woken up. The medic had blonde hair and bright, yellow-tinted eyes, though Wes found that he still couldn't tell whether Amarillo was a dude or a chick.

"I think it's time to tell you the full story about the lab, Wes," Marshal said. "The two upper floors are just there to conceal anything suspicious. The actual facilities for developing potions and other medicine are in the first floor basement."

The image shifted to a view of the lab's interior. Beneath two L-shaped floors was the basement facility, which was much larger.

"But that's not all," Marshal said. "This place is actually owned by a dummy corporation of Silph Co. Some of the more… _clandestine_ research goes on in the levels even below that."

Two additional underground levels showed up in the image.

"And in case those were ever compromised," Marshal continued, "the second-floor basement of the main facility contains a tramway that connects to three more laboratories that are apparently built deep inside the mountain. I don't know what's going on in there, and it's not our job to find out. Our objective is to rescue the hostages, take out Team Rocket and if there's time…" Marshal briefly looked at Mei. "…find out what happened to the others."

Wes saw Rosa smile at Marshal in relief. Apparently the last part wasn't a part of the "official objectives". Not that it mattered to Wes – he was mostly focused on other opportunities. He wasn't exactly sure what 'clandestine' meant, but even he realized that the lab was working on something they didn't want people to find out. And that meant he could pick up something ten times more valuable than what Lance was offering him.

"There are several ways in," Marshal explained. "They've mostly certainly barricaded the front door, but there are three employee entrances around the facility, so one of them's got to be a weak point. The Beta team used a chopper to go in through the roof. The chopper might still be in there, but either way, we can't go in that way. Our initial plan was to use the airlock specifically built for submarines in the second floor basement, but without radar, we'd have to spend too much time looking for it manually. Plus if they have sentries around the perimeter, they'll immediately notice the headlights."

Wes had to hold back a yawn. However, there was something that he wasn't yet clear on.

"Hang on a sec," he interrupted. "Say that we manage to get anyone out of there alive… we can't exactly cram anyone else into this sub, and your helicopter could be in pieces by now… are we going to swim back to Floe? 'Cuz the currents are pretty bitchy around here."

"I was just getting to that," Marshal said as patiently as he could. "The third floor basement contains a teleportation chamber…"

"_What_?" Wes had heard some crazy stuff in his time, but…

"Silph Co has been studying teleportation for decades," Marshal said. "If the Pokémon can do it, why not us? They initially built small warp pads to ease the travel between Silph's different departments, then eventually succeeded in developing a long-distance teleportation device. This should allow instantaneous travel between Silph Co's headquarters and the Navel Rock base. If any of the scientists are still alive, they can use it, though we obviously have to clean the place from Rockets before that. If they're not… well, that's what Jasmine is here for. Don't let her manner deceive you, Wes. She can take care of herself, being a gym leader and all."

Jasmine was so flustered by Marshal's praise that she blushed and had to turn away from everyone.

"You think the Rockets got in that way?" Wes inquired.

"Impossible," Marshal said firmly. "Ever since Silph's takeover, they have increased security and all collaborators who worked with Team Rocket were fired."

"But you assume TR knows about the teleport?"

"Yes. The only explanation for their easy takeover is that they know the specifics of the facility."

Wes expected more information, but apparently Marshal had moved on, as he pressed a button on his Pokétch that made the map vanish.

"I've uploaded the map to your Pokétches," he said. "Wes, since you don't have one, you'll just have to keep up."

"Do you have any idea what they're after?" Wes asked Marshal.

"Could be ransom," Marshal shrugged. "Maybe they're just debating on what to ask. Who knows with these freaks – we never found out what exactly they were after when they first invaded Silph."

"Kind of strange of them to attack today of all these days," Buck said suddenly – Wes was surprised by the softness of his voice. Based on his looks, Wes was quick to judge him as a douchebag who crushed beer cans on his forehead.

"Whaddya mean?" Wes asked.

"Oh, here we go," Touko sighed, but Buck ignored her.

"Tomorrow's the fifth Millenia Festival," Buck explained. "Tomorrow, it has been exactly five thousand years since the Original One, Arceus, banished its dark counterpart, Giratina, to the Distortion World. Most offices are usually closed during that time."

"You a religious man?" Wes asked.

Buck shrugged. "Never thought about it until I saw that church back in Hearthome City, Sinnoh. It really made me wonder about stuff… where do we go after our lives here are done, how was the universe created, does Arceus really exist… my dad's a priest over there. I was born in Sinnoh, actually, at the Survival Area. My brother's in the Elite Four, so I thought I had to join in something almost as great."

"Taking her up now," Dock told Marshal, who nodded and started talking quickly, cutting off whatever else Buck may have had to say.

"You'll go in through one of the staff doors. They won't be expecting you, but they're still probably guarding the entrances pretty tightly. Touko, Buck and Jasmine will take one door, Rosa, Touya, Amarillo and Wes will take another. Then regroup once the first floor has been taken care of. And Wes, I want no 'I work alone'-crap from you!"

"I'm appalled by the suggestion?" Wes said in faux-shock. "I would never turn down valuable meat shields! But say, aren't you coming? You're our big, muscular Commander and all"

"I'll stay in the sub and coordinate the operation," Marshal said.

"Yeah, he has a bad back," Touko quipped.

Marshal ignored the remark. "At any rate, I need to pull your asses out of the fire in case the crud hits the propellers. We need a getaway vehicle after all, though sadly this thing doesn't even have weapons. It was built for 'peaceful exploration'" Marshal even made air-quotes as he said the last part, which made Wes cringe.

_So _he's_ the obnoxious, military no-neck. He does remind me of Lt. Surge in a way_.

"Do any of y'all have any experience with these things?" Wes asked suddenly as the team checked their Poké Balls and Pokétches – Wes assumed that those watches could be used for offensive purposes somehow.

"I've been taking down criminals in Unova since I was 17," Marshal said proudly. "Master Alder trained me personally. I also took down that group of Pokémon Pinchers in Oblivia a few years back. Hah, the Rangers were going to call a task force to clean them out – instead, they just needed me. That's what they get for focusing more on farming than fighting."

Wes rolled his eyes. "Yeah, what about the people who aren't staying behind to 'coordinate'? Is that what they call it these days?"

Before anyone could answer, Marshal was ready with a reply: "They've been trained for precisely these kinds of situations. Their Pokémon are in peak physical conditions and they've been doing combat simulations day and night."

"So that'd be a no," Wes said. "My confidence in this plan is growing all the time."

"Um, a-about that," Jasmine said quietly – Wes was shocked to hear that she could actually talk. As everyone stared at her, Jasmine's voice became even quieter. "I was just w-wondering, if, um… I could stay behind and help Dock with… all those scary buttons?"

Before anyone could answer, a loud splash was heard. The submarine was up.

"You better get moving," Marshal said. "We gotta dive again and hide the sub. I'll be staying in contact, though. Good luck, everyone."

**~o~O~o~**

**_Navel Rock Research Facility, Sevii Islands, twelve hours ago_**

With a swift slash, Sandshrew destroyed the lock of Cyndaquil's cage. However, the fire-type didn't move anywhere. It stayed at the back of the cage, curled up in something almost resembled a fetal position. Shrew noticed that the flames usually sticking out of the Cyndaquil's back were missing.

"Come on!" Shrew squealed. "If you want to end up as a well done steak, then I won't argue, but if you want out, this is your last chance!"

When Cyndaquil replied, its voice was incredibly weak and pleading. "I can take the fire… but the screaming… please…"

"Just grab my paw!" Shrew squeaked loudly, as though wanting to drown out the increasing volume of the shrieks and trashing of the Pokémon around them.

Far too slowly for Shrew's liking, Cyndaquil allowed Shrew to grab its paw, then roughly drag the fire-type out of its cell. However, instead of instinctively rushing towards the exit, the Cyndaquil just stayed in place, shivering. Shrew hissed, but nonetheless grabbed both of Cyndaquil's paws and hauled the little Pokémon on its back. Unfortunately, Shrew was a little Pokémon itself, almost losing its balance as it started to make its way out of the burning lab.

"Wait!" Cyndaquil sneaked just as they had reached the hole in the wall. "What about… we can't just leave them…"

Shrew's answer was cut off by an explosion and pieces of machinery flying everywhere. The blast knocked over many cages and silenced many screams.

"This is place is either going to burn down or fall apart!" Shrew yelled. "We're going!"

And Shrew ran as fast as it could. Ignoring the falling rubble, Cyndaquil's weak protests, the sounds of distant screaming and explosions, Shrew sprinted out of the lab, across the hallway and into the first room he came across. Making sure they were safe, Shrew let Cyndaquil drop and closed the door behind him.

The room they were in now had cages too. Worse yet, they were all empty. With no windows on and all lights apparently fried, the room was instead illuminated by dozens of computer monitors.

Shrew looked at the Cyndaquil – a female one, Shrew noticed – who didn't move anywhere, just "looked" at Shrew sadly.

"Why did you save me?" she asked. "There were so many others in that lab… now they're all going to…"

"Would it have been better if I left you there?" Shrew wondered.

"I don't think I can move properly," Cyndaquil lamented. "I'll just be a burden on you. And there were dozens of Pokémon still there… they would be more helpful if you're trying to leave…"

_What was her problem_? Shrew thought. He had just saved her and himself from being impaled by falling debris, getting burn to a crisp or ending up as the lunch of some berserk Pokémon, but so far Shrew hadn't even heard a 'thank you'. He was about to yell something at the fire mouse when the loudspeakers crackled again, and a human voice, female this time, echoed in the lab:

"_This is Dr. Faust. I've managed to find a place to hide with some security guards. Everyone still alive, stay where you are! We've just received word that the Elite Four sent a team to rescue us. I repeat, stay where you are! Do no engage the Rockets! Help the rescue team any way you-_"

The broadcast was cut off. The message was probably intended to be assuring, but it made Shrew more anxious than he was before.

Seconds later, a door was opened at the opposite end of the room. Shrew quickly pulled Cyndaquil to his side as he hid under a table. In desperation, Shrew quietly pulled a waste paper bin closer to himself so it could cover him and Cyndaquil at least partially.

Four humans, all wearing identical black uniforms with big, red R's on their shirts, entered the room, one of them scanning the lab with a flashlight while another had a Raticate on a leash. The Raticate sniffed around the room, making unsettling growling and sputtering noises.

_Team Rocket…_

"Did you hear that just now?" a male Rocket asked. "I could deal with these three-hundred pound security guards, but a strike team? No one told us about that!"

"Get your panties off your crack, they're only in the first floor. Come on, Raticate, get the scent! There's bound to be a straggler or a few here!"

"I know our Raticate need insides to gnaw on but I think we're in the wrong floor. The _orb_-thingy or whatever they sent us to pick up is in the floor below us."

The frenzied Raticate knocked over a table only a few feet away. Shrew became nervously aware of how loud his breathing was and covered Cyndaquil's mouth with his paw.

"Just my kind of job. Let the others do the fighting, I'll just pick up some… uh, what the hell _is_ it anyway?"

"Whatever it is, the execs want it bad enough to put Domino in charge of this mission. And she will have your balls for lunch if you don't hurry it up!"¨

The Raticate suddenly stopped sniffing and stared directly at the table Sandshrew and Cyndaquil were hiding under. Shrew closed his eyes and prepared for the worst.

"Fine," the Rocket handling the Raticate groaned. "Come on!" she yelled at the Pokémon who was desperately trying to claw its way towards Sandshrew and Cyndaquil.

Shrew didn't breathe or open his eyes even when he heard the door closing behind the Rockets and the sounds of their footsteps fading. Even when he heard only the quiet humming of the computers, it took almost a minute for Shrew to get his act together. Though he took a deep breathe and got up to sit, he didn't leave his safe spot under the table. Cyndaquil was still on the ground, only shivering slightly.

"Are you okay?" Shrew asked her.

"Y-yeah…" Cyndaquil gulped. "Did you hear that broadcast? Maybe we should just stay here…"

"Rescue team, right," Shrew scoffed. "We're in a lab run by crazy humans that's currently crawling with crazier humans and apparently invaded by possibly even crazier humans most likely killing everyone in sight. We have to go."

"You shouldn't talk like that about the people working here," Cyndaquil said softly. "They've given us food, shelter, occasionally let us exercise…"

Shrew stared at Cyndaquil.

"Given us… are you insane?" Shrew squealed. "You've been through all of this, spending your days locked in a cage, the injections, the experiments, food that apparently made you unable to run."

Cyndaquil remained calm. "Well… we have to earn that food and shelter somehow. Without these humans, I would have died. My… my mother, a Typhlosion, abandoned me before I hatched. These people took me in. I should be grateful."

"Or they abducted your mom for testing and decided to take your egg as snack for the road," Shrew said mercilessly. "You probably hatched when those humans were arguing over whether they wanted their eggs scrambled or boiled."

Cyndaquil didn't seem to be bothered. She wasn't shivering as much as anymore and sounded less fearful when she turned towards Shrew. "Well… how did you end up here, then?"

"I…" Shrew stared at Cyndaquil in silence for a moment. "What's your name?" he asked suddenly.

"M-my… um, I don't… I'm a Cyndaquil…"

"I'm gonna call you Quill," Shrew said. "I know it's probably some human thing, but if we're going to pull through, we need to trust each other. Now I know a little about you. I'm Shrew, by the way. Well, some call me that. I guess I can start doing it too."

Now it was Quill's turn to stare at Shrew in silence. Then, slowly, she sat up and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Shrew," Quill said. "What's your story?"

"Not terribly different from yours," Shrew answered thoughtfully. "I was born near the Indigo Plateau. All I remember about it was that it was dry. Some kind of prairie in the middle of nowhere, I guess. Didn't see many humans, as the place was still far from the Pokémon League or whatever they call it. I'd probably just been hatched for a few weeks when I first saw them… machines, hundreds of them, controlled by scientists or something, some kind o tubes sucking Pokémon right off the ground by the hundreds. If I had any brothers or sisters, that's where they ended up in. I have no idea what was happening – I just ran. But I didn't get far – I landed in some sort of electrified net…"

Shrew took a small pause, allowing Quill, who had been listening intently, to cut in: "And you woke up here?"

"I wish…" Shrew said bitterly. "I instead woke up on a different kind of lab on Cinnabar Island. Much smaller, less sterile, less Pokémon experiments… but there still were some. And there was… him. This human called Charon. I don't know what his deal was and what he was trying to prove, but I was subject Arceus knows what in his little game. He…"

The look of disgust on Shrew's face told Quill more than Shrew himself could.

"Anyway, I don't know how long I was there. Time wasn't relevant anymore. All I know that it was years. By that time, I was the only Pokémon Charon had left. Before that, I was waiting for some opportunity to escape or some kind of miracle that would save me… or my mother to come pick me up… but I eventually stopped. I just wanted it to be over."

"But I guess even humans have limits on how messed up they're allowed to be. Charon was eventually discovered and fired. When they delivered me out of the lab, I was happier than I had ever been. Of course, that was before I found out what my destination was."

"Here?" Quill asked gently and Shrew nodded.

"I spent a few days in the med lab, and then, for the rest of my life I've been stuck in this floor for years. I've tried to keep track of time from calendars and I've tried to count the new arrivals, but once again, I just stopped caring."

"Shrew," Quill said, "I'm so-"

"Don't," Shrew said sadly and shook his head. "I don't why I'm sitting here whining. We have to get going, and I've seen so many Pokémon suffer much worse fates than me. Just think about the poor saps in the room we just ran out of. How are your legs?"

Quill was slightly taken aback by this sudden concern. "Oh, they're, um, fine. Much better. I'm not sure if I'm able to run yet, though."

"You'll be fine with me," Shrew said impatiently. "Come on!"

Slowly, the two Pokémon started making their way towards the door where the Rocket Grunts had come out of. Constantly glancing Quill, who still seemed to have trouble walking, Shrew also looked around the room for any surprises. Most of the aisles between the large cages, desks and computers were still shrouded in darkness. The cages _seemed_ empty, but a few desks and cages in the corner of the room had apparently exploded and were now just a big pile of splinters and metal.

When Quill looked like she couldn't take another step without wincing in pain, Shrew helped it a little, holding her paws tightly. As they headed towards the door, Shrew had time to think. Why had he saved just Quill? Was it because she, unlike every other Pokémon in the lab, had actually shared her food with Shrew despite her own plight?

_Well, duh_. But then, maybe there were other Pokémon doing the same to each other in there? _Should I have tried harder_?

And why wasn't Quill enraged at the humans? A side-effect of the food they made her eat? Or did she really believe in all that? _But there are good humans around, like Krane._ Then again, all that time and he could have shut the project down, helped the Pokémon to escape. But he just watched.

_And I've eaten that food for longer than her and I'm fine_…

Shrew and Quill turned left, only a couple of yards from the door, the remains of the destroyed desks and cages to their right and an active computer to their left. As they passed the computer, however, Shrew heard the strangest noise from it: some sort of high-pitched, ethereal sound that made Shrew jerk his head in the computer's direction. What Shrew saw almost made him let go of Quill in shock.

A ghostly form of a Pokémon unlike Shrew had ever seen suddenly showed up on the monitor. It looked like a humongous centipede with beady, glowing red eyes. The creature had six claws, six legs and six wings and, most disturbing of all, seemed to notice Shrew's presence as it stared directly at him.

Before Shrew could process any of this, the strange Pokémon was gone. Quill, who wondered why Shrew had stopped, turned to look at the computer.

"What?" she asked.

Shrew didn't know what to say. Quill clearly hadn't heard the sound. It was possible that he had imagined it all, but…

_Can't be_. Something was definitely wrong.

"Sandshrew?"

Quill sounded concerned. Shrew shook his head and turned to face her.

"Before we head to the surface, I need to find out something," Shrew said. "I mean we have a billion tons of rock on top of us, could be we'd have to get all the way to the summit to get out of here. You heard those guys talking – they were heading downstairs. Could be they have some… answers. For both of us. We could find out why you have such a hard time walking! And I think this computer could have something."

"I understand," Quill said, "you don't know anything about your past life or what they did to you. You deserve to find out."

"_We_ deserve to find out," Shrew corrected. "I've seen the humans use these computers a million times now. They're voice-activated, but probably only understand human language. I wish I was a Chatot right now…"

"I'm sorry," Quill said. "But it's not like you can open the files by just saying stuff like 'Computer, play the last log!'"

Quill had barely finished her sentence when the computer next to them started humming loudly. A few seconds later, a recording of a scientist appeared on the screen, listing out test results in a loud but nasal voice, occasionally pushing up his glasses:

"_This will be my last log update – most of the staff will be moved downstairs to work on the project they call 'Griseous Orb'. For now, we can say that the compound in the food has actively impaired the motor functions of all subjects. However, while experimenting with normal-type Pokémon, we found that the food causes severe neurological problems and disrupts cognitive functions. We've been forced to put a few of them to sleep. Other normal-types have shown increased aggression and previously apathetic or mild-tempered subjects have gone feral._"

Shrew listened intently, while Quill seemed to be distracting something. She tugged Shrew's arm, trying to get his attention, but the Sandshrew didn't even react to her presence.

"_As last time, the Sandshrew has shown no signs of change. Due to this, we have decided to use it as a control subject. The administrator is planning some big test for the creature next week. For now, we will not be administering the antidote for the other subjects. Fire-, electric- and psychic-types have shown significant weakening and have had their special abilities blocked, however, so we may need to tell the people upstairs to make more of the antidote, which we'll…_"

Shrew cringed and stopped listening. _Maybe they're talking about some other Sandshrew?_ No, not with his luck. He hadn't seen other Sandshrew in the facility in… months? It was hard to tell around here.

"Shrew?" Quill said quietly – she had moved right next to the ground-type and was shivering.

Shrew ignored her for now. No wonder Quill didn't have fire sticking out of… wherever those flames came from. But if there was an antidote somewhere, upstairs apparently, then that meant…

"S-shrew…"

"What?"

"I think I saw-"

She was cut off when chunks of concrete, metal and wood started flying all over the room as something emerged from the pile of rubble next to them. It was a Dodrio, a seven feet tall, three-headed, wingless bird, each one of its beaks razor-sharp and almost as long as Shrew himself.

Shrew ignored all strategy as he grabbed Quill roughly and threw her away from the Dodrio. One of the heads turned to look at Quill's flight, while another screeched at Shrew, the noise boring into his skull. Shrew jumped upward and scratched the Dodrio's midsection, causing it to screech again. Now all of its three heads focused on Shrew, all attempting to impale him with their beaks.

Shrew ran away from the Dodrio as fast as he could, but the Dodrio kept up in Shrew's pace effortlessly, forcing Shrew to quickly change direction and take cover underneath a table.

That was a mistake.

Noticing where Shrew had gone, Dodrio stomped on the table, its claws tearing the flimsy wooden construct apart like it was papier-mâché. For one brief second, Shrew could look into the Dodrio's eyes, noticing that all six of its pupils were apparently gone, its eyes milky white and empty.

Shrew tried to get away from the Dodrio, but one of the bird's heads managed to catch him by his tail. He was tossed in to air, then caught again by another head, the Dodrio's beak squeezing around Shrew's belly. Shrew tried to use his claws to desperately keep the bird's mouth open to avoid being snapped in half, using his tail to keep another head from impaling him.

The third of Dodrio's heads had focused its attention on Quill, who had come out of her hiding spot and was now staring at Dodrio and Shrew, paralyzed by fear.

"Quill!" Shrew yelled as he scratched, kicked and tail-whipped Dodrio everywhere he could. "Do… something!"

Quill fidgeted around in panic, making shrill, unintelligible sounds.

"Just…" Shrew grunted and dodged tried to wrap its tail around one of Dodrio's beaks. "…hit it, scratch it, bite it… anything! But hurry!"

And Quill did something. After blankly staring at the Dodrio for a second, she opened her mouth and while her back apparently burst into flame. Shrew instinctively curled into a ball to protect himself

A potent blast of flames enveloped one of Dodrio's heads entirely while the others attempted to desperately move away from the heat. In panic, the Dodrio stopped Shrew. After getting on his feet, Shrew ran away from the Dodrio and signaled Quill to run in the opposite direction.

Their plan worked. Dodrio's two still conscious heads couldn't decide which one to chase, seemingly paralyzing it entirely. Quill hesitated, but Shrew gave her a reassuring nod, causing Quill to hit Dodrio with another flamethrower.

This one knocked the giant bird off its feet. Without bothering to check if the Dodrio was still conscious, Shrew ran back to Quill, hurled her on his back and started making his way towards the door. Even carrying the malnourished Quill felt like dragging a sack of potatoes with him, and Shrew's limbs were already aching after the Dodrio battle. But even through the pain, Shrew ran out of the door and tried to find an elevator to the lower floors. There, he'd find answers. And then, he'd finally be free.

Frantic about getting out of the lab and back into the dark, crumbling corridor, Shrew ignored Quill's sudden shriek. Before he could do anything, something powerful struck him, and everything went dark.

* * *

_**A/N: I'll try to avoid anymore A/N's, as they kinda distract from the story. Anyway, I'll update 1-2 times a week. I planned to do Pokémon speech in italics at first, but it would have been straining for the eyes. Either way, I think we all agree that Pokémon understand humans perfectly, but humans can't understand Pokémon... yet.**_

_**Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited and so on! Keep 'em coming.**_


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